Untitled
by Deadly Undead -Crynn
Summary: Skyrim. Story following the life of one Amelia Vandamme, a Nord in the midst of a war between Imperials and Stormcloaks. Eventually becomes a member of the Dark Brotherhood, but does NOT follow DB questline. Rated M for gore and suggestive themes.
1. Chapter 1

Uhhh…yeah. Starting another story, for the kicks. I'm also really bored. Aksgdfkhn and tired.

It's 7 am here…I was up all night writing. I kept telling myself "You have to finish this before you go to bed". I ended up taking forever to finish it.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this drabble. It's not edited or anything, because I'm a rebel like that.

Oh, and disclaimer; I don't own anything from TES, aside from some of my made up characters like Cynn, Amelia, and Fentius. Oh, and Amelia's house is a figment of my imagination. Don't go wandering around Falkreath looking for it because it's not a real location lol

ALSO, brief explanation, and then you can get reading,

Cynn is a character from a different story of mine, the main character in my game in Skyrim. She's the dragonborn, not Amelia. Amelia is just some derpy girl I made up so I would have a more leveled out main character.

Cynn is the same chick from that other story of mine, Unbound, but I'm going to delete that story soon because I don't like it lol. Anyhow, she's the Listener of the DB and stuff. Everything in the DB questline from Skyrim is stuff she has done. So…yeah. You can start reading now.

Nyyeehhhh *hearts*

xXxXxXx

Cynn, listener of the Dark Brotherhood, dipped her quill into the brackish liquid, tapping the feather lightly on the side of the ink pot to prevent spots of ink on the parchment she was using.

She flattened the slightly curled parchment, and allowed her quill to hover over it in her hand while she thought out what she wanted to say. She was writing instructions for Nazir, specifically to look for some initiates for the Brotherhood.

She bit her lip slightly as she began scratching down her orders in her loopy, scrawl-y handwriting. A cough from her doorway made her jump. Her head flicked around, a look of displeasure on her narrow, elfish features.

"Yes?" She asked, penetrating her visitor with her sharp yellow eyes. It was Nazir.

"Listener, if you'll forgive me…I think I have found another initiate."

She raised her brow, her expression softening. "Really?" she asked, more curious than upset with his interruption.

"Yes. Her name is Amelia Vandamme, and she shows a promising talent in our line of work. Shall I send someone to fetch her?"

"Yes…please," she murmured thoughtfully, her gaze astray as she prospected the thought of another initiate. It had been a while since the Brotherhood had had someone new. "Send for her immediately."

"As you wish, my Listener…" Nazir disappeared from her doorway and proceeded down the cobblestone hallway of the Dawnstar Sanctuary, a coy smile on his face. He had a message to deliver.

vvvv

A few days prior.

vvvv

Amelia Vandamme turned in her cot, a rough wool blanket covering her body. She scowled at the wall, upset with herself for being incapable of sleep. With one last sigh, she decided her efforts were futile and sat up. Being as silent as possible, she rose to her feet, finding her boots in the process and jerking them on. She slipped into her cloak, which was hanging on the door, and left the small ramshackle house, not bothering to tell her brother, as he was probably still asleep and wouldn't appreciate being awoken at such an hour.

She started off into the woods, her hood pulled over her head, shadowing her face. Her amber eyes reflected the light of the moon, a pale glow silhouetted her small figure in a white-blue color. Pools of moonlight cast themselves on the thistle-covered ground, which she avoided, so as not to be seen.

Then again, who was there to worry about? She and her brother lived apart from everyone else in Falkreath Hold. Their nearest neighbor was the couple who lived at Half-Moon Mill, Hern and Herl, a long walk West. Speaking of Hern, she hadn't heard from him in a very long time…

Amelia walked slowly down to the beach of Lake Ilinalta, her cloak billowing around her in the wind, making her shiver. Her teeth began to chatter and she wondered if this early-morning walk was really that smart.

She made her way over to a sizable boulder on the side of the water, taking a seat upon it. She kicked off her boots and tossed them onto the sand, dipping her toes into the icy water, making chills run up her spine.

Ilinalta was always beautiful at this time of night, the reflection of the moon hanging in the sky shattered in the water as the tide came and went. Occasionally a gust of wind made Amelia pull her cloak tightly around her thin frame, but she didn't mind the cold too much. It was Skyrim, after all, so the weather was bound to make you cold right down to your core, no matter if you were in Southern Skyrim or up North.

Suddenly, a noise besides the slithering of the waves reached her ears; it sounded like a footsteps. Amelia snapped her head around to look into the forest behind her, but all she could see were shadows…Deep, pitch-black shadows. Her hand instinctively reached for her waist, where a steel dagger was hidden. Her eyes bored into the forest as she tried to make out something against the darkness, or perhaps to see something move. A growl sounded, closer this time. She pulled the dagger out of her bodice and wielded it before her, sliding off of the boulder, her bare feet sinking into the soft, cold, grainy sand.

Again, more growling, only this time, a furry black beast crept out of the forest, it's yellow eyes full of some instinctive malice.

The black bear reared it's head, letting out a roar, it's pearly white teeth glistening in the moonlight. Amelia froze in place, staring at the bear. Should she attack, or flee?

She braced herself to attack, taking a quick, deep breath. The bear rose to it's hind feet, snarling at her all the while. It thunked to the ground back to all fours, then gambled quickly towards her.

Amelia, who had been somewhat trained in fighting enough to know how to use a knife, slashed at any part of the bear she could reach. It let out a particularly painful cry and backed away from her, glaring at her with hatred, a deep cut on it's forehead.

With another roar it jumped towards her again, and she retaliated by slicing at it again, wincing when she felt the knife penetrate the bear's flesh, presumably it's neck. It roared again, snapping at her with it's jaws, but she was backing away into the water, and it's attacks were becoming less furious.

After one last cut at the bear's neck, it collapsed onto the sand, moaning. She watched, wide-eyed, as it's heavy breathing slowed, and finally, stopped completely.

She dipped her dagger into the water and rubbed off the blood, the sight of it making her stomach clench. Her eyes kept flicking back to the bear, worried that it might not be dead, though she had no reason to believe it wasn't.

She wondered why the bear had persevered to attack her, even when she fought back and injured it so. She assumed that some sort of deep hunger had driven the bear to go after her in the first place, which scared her.

Stepping out of the water, Amelia decided that it would be best to go home, back to safety. She would tell her brother of the bear in the morning, if he was in a good mood.

vvvv

"You, taking down a bear?" Fentius asked disbelievingly, scowling at her over his morning cup of ale. "Amelia, you really need to take control of your imagination."

Amelia wanted to protest, to take him down to the shore and prove to him that last night had really happened, but she knew the only good that could possibly come from it was getting her smacked, maybe beaten.

Instead, she stared into her wheaty porridge, brown sugar sprinkled on the top. It was still steaming, after all she had prepared it barely minutes before.

After a while of mild silence (Fentius could be heard wandering about the shack and surrounding areas, muttering to himself), Fentius came in and informed her that she needed to put on her finest attire. They were going into Falkreath.

"Why?" Amelia asked, surprised. They never visited town unless they had goods to sell or things to buy. Most of the time, they just lived off of the land.

"Because I need a drink, stupid. Now get dressed," he commanded, sifting through the cupboards, as if to be sure that he really had no more ale.

Amelia obliged, stepping over to their one, shared dresser. She picked through all the ragged clothes until she found an olive green dress that seemed fit for the occasion. It was strange, she thought, how Fentius wanted her to go with him. Usually, if he wanted a drink, he would simply disappear for a few days, never inviting her along or even informing her where he would be. But then, Amelia didn't mind. She appreciated every chance she got to go into town, no matter how pointless the circumstances.

vvvv

They left sometime before noon, Fentius remaining silent for most of the time, aside from when he wanted to point out flaws in something. Namely, Amelia.

They arrived around 6 in the afternoon, the sun vanishing over the mountains in the distance. A man Amelia recognized as Bolund greeted them as they arrived, giving Fentius a hearty handshake.

"I was wondering when you'd show up. Falkreath could always use a few extra Nords."

Bolund seemed to have a strict regime that he based people on; anybody who wasn't a Nord wasn't worth their hide, unless they were firmly on Ulfric's side. Even then, he had a severe distrust of anyone of a different race.

Bolund didn't seem to acknowledge Amelia's presence, even when Fentius told her to go to Gray Pine Goods and spend some time with Solaf, the owner, also Bolund's brother. Amelia greatly preferred Solaf to Bolund, as Solaf treated everyone somewhat equally. He still didn't like Imperials, of course, but she supposed it was just a family trait.

Amelia hugged her rucksack close as she started down the street, watching as Fentius and Bolund disappeared in the Dead Man's Drink, the local pub.

She eased open the door to Gray Pine Goods, somewhat happy to be seeing old friends.

"Hello, Solaf," she greeted the Nordic man behind the counter. He glanced up, and instantly recognized her, a sly smile appearing on his face.

"Wasn't expecting you in today. Is your brother around?" Solaf asked, rubbing some kind of polish on a sword fervently.

Amelia nodded. "He's at the Dead Man's Drink. With Bolund."

"Ah." Solaf said, nodding knowingly. "Should'a known. Hey, you hungry? I have some pheasant I could fix for you, no charge. You're practically family, after all."

"That would be lovely, thank you Solaf," Amelia murmured, smiling appreciatively at him. Solaf _was_ practically family. At the very least, he would make a better brother to her than Fentius. Then again, that wasn't exactly saying much.

Solaf paused his polishing, stepping out from behind the counter and over to the fire, placing a small pheasant on the rack.

"So, what brings you and Fentius? Weren't you here last week, with all those pelts?"

Amelia nodded again. "Fentius wanted a drink. Seems we ran out of mead back at home."

"So, he's probably going to be roaring drunk by tonight, then?" Solaf a small smile playing on his lips. She didn't think it was funny at all, but then, she had seen and endured the worst of it.

"Most likely," she replied, shrugging.

They chatted for a few more minutes before Solaf realized the pheasant was done and that he should probably go back to work.

"If you're tired, go ahead and go back to me and Bolund's room, upstairs. The bed on the right."

"Sure, thanks Solaf."

She devoured the pheasant, appeasing her hunger. One tended to appreciate free meals when you were dirt poor. When she finished she placed the wooden plate by the fire and wandered upstairs into Solaf and Bolund's room, stretching and yawning. She didn't feel like she could sleep just yet, so she looked around the room for some reading material. She noticed a couple of books on the nightstand between the beds, and wandered over, sitting on the edge of Solaf's bed.

She picked up the book on the top of the stack: _The Brothers of Darkness_ by Pellarne Assi. Figuring she had nothing better to do, she opened it. She was startled when she realized it was a book about some order called the Dark Brotherhood, whom she had heard very little about. She gathered that they were some kind of cult that killed people, but the more she read about them, the more intrigued she became. Soon, she was onto the next book, fully engrossed. This one was called The Night Mother's Truth, by Gaston Bellefort. Again, she was mesmerized, though she did not know why. She read about summoning the Brotherhood, the 'dread father', as he was called, and even more information about how it started. However, nowhere in these books could she find specific details. It was all so shrouded in mystery…

Before she knew it, she had gone through all of the books, thoughts of death and murder floating in her mind, resurfacing even when she tried to drown them. She sighed, setting the books on the table as she had found them. With a start she realized that it was very, very late, and she should probably get to sleep.

She promptly sprawled herself out on the bed and fell asleep, having strange dreams and nightmares in which she was a member of the Dark Brotherhood herself.

xXxXxXx

How did you like it? Leaving a review or whatever will make me uberhappy, so like, leave one. Lol.

Just tell me whatcha think, mmkay? I want to know if I should continue this or not.

Anyhow, I'm going to bed now. See ya later…

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….


	2. Chapter 2

Rated Mature for this chapter. Contains gore and suggestive themes.

VvVvVvVvVvV

Amelia awoke in the early morning, seemingly for no reason. At first, she couldn't place where she was, but then she spotted Solaf sleeping soundly on the bed beside her. She glanced around the room for her brother, but he was nowhere to be found. She guessed he was still out drinking.

Something began nibbling at the edges of her mind, but when she tried to figure out what it was, the thought fled and she still couldn't remember. Then she spotted the books on the nightstand, and everything came back.

The Dark Brotherhood…

Last nights thoughts resurfaced, and she began to feel slightly ill. Had she really conceived such plans of murder? That wasn't like her. She didn't do anything against the law, much less murder someone.

She frowned, turning over and looking up at the ceiling. She tried ignoring how attractive the Dark Brotherhood was to her, but it was no use. Some very sick part of her even wanted to summon them, to at least meet them. Maybe convince them somehow to take care of her brother…

What nonsense!

How could she be having such thoughts? It was wrong, so terribly wrong.

Besides, if she wanted her brother dead, she should do it herself…

No.

It wasn't as if she hadn't had thoughts like this before, of killing her brother… She would never actually do it. It wasn't right, even if he did deserve it for everything he'd done to her…

"AMELIA!" a voice called from below her, in the shop. Solaf stirred in his sleep, muttering. Amelia got to her feet and plundered down the stairs, meeting her brother there.

Fentius grinned wickedly at her, swaying on the spot, holding onto the counter for support.

"You called?" she asked, feeling uncomfortable. Odd…just as she was thinking of taking care of him, the perfect opportunity arose. He was weak, and the alcohol in his system would probably prevent him from being able to fight back. All of his movements were sloppy and uncontrolled, which was common after a night in a pub.

Her hand reached for her hip, where her dagger was concealed…

No. She couldn't. Her hand dropped back to her side.

"C'mere, 'melia," he commanded her. She stepped forward tentively, almost awkwardly.

"Closer."

She edged closer, wondering if he was going to beat her...or something else.

If it was 'something else'…well, maybe she could kill him.

She could smell him from this distance. The fumes of mead and wine and ale, practically radiating off of his grimy carcass. She shivered as he leaned closer, his arms suddenly wrapping around her waist, snatching her close and pushing her against him. His breath was hot on her cheek. The smell of him almost made her gag.

Her hand wandered to her side again, where she began to pull the dagger out of it's hidden sheath silently. She could feel his fingers fumbling with the back of her bodice, trying to figure out in his drunken state how it worked, and how to remove it. He began kissing her cheek and jawline, making Amelia tremble furiously. She knew what was going to happen if she didn't do something.

It was now or never, whilst he was distracted and drunk.

"Whatsa' matter, whore?" he asked, his voice like honey, dripping from the air.

Slowly, almost as if she were underwater she drew up the blade. Fentius' eyes were closed, so he couldn't see the descending knife.

She plunged the dagger deep into his neck, most likely piercing several main arteries and nerves. He tried to shout, but all that came out of his mouth was blood, dribbling from his lips. She pulled out the knife from his flesh, and backed away. She became engrossed in the kill, her first kill. She smiled, a scary smile that echoed the darkness of her pleasure. She had finally done what she had dreamed about for years.

She stepped forward again, playing with him now. Acting out her fantasies that she had conceived over the years.

She thrust the blade into his stomach this time, and watched as his face warped in pain and shock.

After a few more gruesome attacks on her brother, she backed away, heaving slightly. She felt…different. She wiped off the blood of her blade on Fentius' clothing—no use dirtying her own clothes—and put the knife on the counter, not intending to keep it on her person for obvious reasons.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar fear struck her with full force. What was she to do with the body? The blood?

She had to flee, immediately.

Or…perhaps she could stay, and call the guards? Tell them that she had wandered down to the main floor of the shop and found her brother, brutally and horribly murdered. Yes, and then she could throw on a nice façade as the poor sister, with no family…

That would work brilliantly. Nobody could ever suspect such an innocent young woman of such a crime! Not if she played her cards right.

She smiled again. She felt good. So much more…_alive_. She felt like an entirely different person, no longer the quiet, submissive girl she used to be.

She stepped over to the door, plastering a horrified expression on her face and preparing a fearful yell.

She threw open the door. "GUARDS! GUARDS! SOMEBODY CALL THE GUARDS! My brother's been murdered!"

vvvv

"Amelia, are you sure you're alright?" Solaf asked.

Amelia sniffled, pulling the blanket that was draped over her shoulders more tightly around her small frame. She nodded miserably, though inside she was jumping for joy. Things couldn't be going better! She had everyone in town fooled. Not only did nobody suspect her, but they all pitied her!

Solaf rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort the poor girl as they sat side-by-side on the steps of the inn.

"We should go inside, Amelia," Solaf suggested. She nodded again, and rose to her feet, Solaf doing the same. She sniffled some more and hugged herself.

Silence greeted her as she stepped into the Inn, all of the customers eying her solemnly. A few offered a few words of consolation. One man, a redguard, sat in the corner of the room, his eyes on her. He was smiling, a sly, knowing smile on his dark features. She avoided looking at him, taking a seat by the hearth. When she glanced back at the redguard, he was still looking at her. She turned to Solaf.

"Who's that Redguard, the one in the corner?" she asked quietly, adding a few trembles to her voice for good measure. Solaf lifted his head and looked at the man. A suspicious look crossed his face as he stared at the man.

"That, Amelia, could possibly be the man that murdered your brother."

Amelia looked back at Solaf, startled. "Why? Who is he?"

"He's a man, an assassin. He comes around here from time to time. Never talks to anybody. Everybody 'round here reckons he's with the…the Brotherhood." Solaf explained grimly, though he was attempting to be gentle as well.

Amelia looked at him curiously, a sudden respect for the man emerging in her.

"Really?" she asked, still staring at the redguard, who had averted his gaze to a book.

"Yes…I wonder who would commission him, though…nobody 'round her particularly dislikes your brother…"

"Yes, he was a wonderful man…" she murmured, acting like the tormented young woman she was, putting her face in her hands and allowing a few convincing sobs to wrack her body.

"Oh, come now. It'll be alright…" Solaf told her softly, rubbing her back again.

They stayed like that for a long while, talking amongst themselves. It was noon before Solaf finally left her side, saying he wanted to talk to the guards some more. She just nodded in response, secretly happy that he was leaving her alone. She wanted to have another look at that dark brotherhood fellow.

She watched the man from a distance, his face not visible from her vantage point because of the crimson turban-cowl he wore.

Suddenly, he looked up, catching her eyes with his own dark ones. She averted her eyes, looking instead at the bard that had started playing. She felt his eyes still on her, but didn't want to look. She had a strange feeling that this odd man knew exactly what she had done. The thought made her shiver. A Dark Brotherhood brother knowing about her killing…would they get mad? No, the books said they only got troubled when people started paying you to have people killed.

As she watched the bard playing a song of love and death, she felt alone. She wondered what she would do, now that she was free of her brother. She would go back to his—ahem, her shack and collect some of her belongings. She had already been given what gold Fentius had had on his body when he was found, but it wasn't much. Hardly 100 gold pieces. Of course, a couple of the townsfolk had pitched in a little too, but only about 50 gold pieces.

But…she supposed that would be enough to get her started.

vvvv 

"Your brother's funeral is scheduled to be tomorrow at dawn. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll be sure to come and wake you up for it." Solaf told Amelia. A day had passed since her brother's death, and nothing at all seemed to be happening. In fact, she was getting a little tired of playing the part of a tortured little sister. It was tedious to constantly pretend to be someone else.  
>"Sure…" she mumbled. "I'll go ahead and stay at the inn another night. I'll be leaving tomorrow, after the passing."<br>"Of course. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, I suppose. Have a nice night, Amelia." He told her, leaving the inn. Amelia walked over to the innkeeper and dropped 10 gold pieces in front of her. "I'd like to stay another night, please."  
>"Sure thing, hon." The innkeeper said. "Have a good night."<br>"You too…" She trailed off, trying to seem distracted and dissociated. She went to her room and shut the door, collapsing on the bed. She fell asleep almost immediately, worn out from the day.

VvVvVvVvVvVvV

I'M SO SICK OF WRITING AGH

Leave reviews and stuff if you want to make me happy.

Mmkay.

Bye.

-Crynn


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